


there's something so broken about this.

by Trashy_Cannot



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/F, Past Relationship(s), beauyasha - Freeform, yashregard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-10-14 00:19:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17498060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashy_Cannot/pseuds/Trashy_Cannot
Summary: Sometimes the past comes stumbling through the door late at night.





	1. Chivalry Fell on its Sword

  That night, Yasha hadn’t expected company.

  Yet, she found it when a bumbling mess stumbled through the door she opened.

  “Beau?”

  All the woman responded with was a muffled acknowledgment while making her way to Yasha’s torn up couch, faceplanting.

  “I’m surprised you’d let me in.” she slurred.

  “I didn’t really do that, but I don’t think I can really stop you…” Yasha trailed and moved to get a cup of water.

  In the midst of disbelief and mild anger, Yasha almost let the freezing water spill onto her hand, before she reminded herself to keep her composure.

  “Why are you here?”

  “Couldn’t drink and drive home and you were close enough, I guess.” Beau said.

  Handing the glass over and settling herself on the coffee table, Yasha eyed the slow-forming hickeys on Beau’s neck, before shifting her gaze onto the mulberry spot swelling on her eye.

  “Oh.”

  “How are you still here? I half-expected you to be up and gone.” Beau scoffed. “Hell, you’re actually here for once instead of being off in that storm cult.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you right now. You’re drunk.”

  Beau could’ve sworn she added an, ‘as usual,’ under her breath. Beau gritted her teeth and took a small sip that sent a shock through her tired body.

  “Y’know what? No, fuck that, this is the only way I’m ever gonna-“

  “Get over us?”

  Beau leaned back, averting her gaze. She rubbed the back of her neck. If it wasn’t for her booze, she would’ve had no excuse for the subtle blush beneath her skin.

  “Beau, why are you here?”

  Yasha crossed her arms in contempt, refusing to give her ex any leverage in the confrontation. She could tell Beau was trying to hide behind the glass of water she was holding, taking long gulps to waste time.

  She finished the glass.

  “I got in a fight at the bar-“

  “Why?”

  “Fuckin’ hell, Yash, it was just a fight.”

  The pale woman moved her hand towards the hickeys and black eye, only to be stopped by a quick snap of Beau’s hand, though it wavered in its grip on Yasha’s wrist.

  “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

  “Why the fight?” Yasha repeated, eyes trained on Beau, unwavering.

  “She was-she wasn’t you. But her uh, _other_ fuckbuddy didn’t care.” Beau opened her mouth to explain more, but stopped and dropped Yasha’s wrist.

  Even in the dim light, it was easy to see that her wounds weren’t just limited to the distinct change in color of her skin around her eye. Dark red started to fade into a purple. Under Yasha’s scrutinizing eye, Beau groaned and she placed the cup down and moved towards the door, halted when a new grip found its way on her arm.

  “I gave you an answer. Just fill in the fucking blanks.” she spat, glaring into eyes that had kept her in this apartment for a year, yet had rarely gazed into unless on rare nights without storms.

  “I cannot offer you an apology. You were drunk _just_ as often as I was gone.” Yasha retorted, fighting against herself to tighten her vice-like grip on Beau’s arm.

  At that moment Yasha could’ve sworn red washed over the usually teal pupils, before fading into a drunken equilibrium.

  “Fine. I was never looking for one. Just-just let me leave.”

  Yasha gazed at the various cuts and bruises that littered Beau’s body, something she only saw long before their separation. Some cuts seemed to barely cut the skin, yet others looked much worse. On the other hand, bruises ranged from deep red to a nauseating yellow.

  “Stay? Just for tonight. You can’t get anywhere like that anyway.”

  Beau gave a drawn-out sigh before settling herself back on Yasha’s couch. After a few minutes of shared silence and uncomfortable stares, Yasha briefly left and returned with spare bandages, antibiotic, and soap.

  Yasha held out her hand and Beau begrudgingly offered her forearm, which had a cut that looked a quarter of an inch deep, pooling with dark liquid. Yasha patted the blood away and washed the wound, before applying an antibiotic and wrapping her arm with gauze and bandages.

  The two never met each other’s gazes during the time, though Beau let out drunken grunts of disapproval whenever she felt the sting and warm buzz of her injuries.

  Yasha repeated the mundane process for what seemed like 20-odd injuries before she had to dispose of the blood-stained materials she brought out. She would’ve laughed at how wrapped up Beau was if it didn’t remind her of their regrettable routines.

  She returned from throwing away her bandages to find Beau laying on her couch, an arm and a leg hanging from its edge. The woman laughed to herself and took her ex’s hand in hers, kissing away a small cut on Beau’s knuckle, before laying it over her unconscious form.

  Quiet steps lead out of the living room and towards Yasha’s room, stopped short by a voice.

  “I’m sorry.” Beau slurred in a half-conscious mumble.

  Yasha paused and dropped her shoulders.

  “…me too.”

  She moved again to her bedroom.

  That night, neither women could truly rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I make this a multi-chapter thing? I really don't know because it doesn't feel complete as it is, but I have a horrible track record with multi-chapter fics. But yeah, not my best work, but leave kudos and feedback if you'd like! Thank you for reading. 
> 
> P.S: Yes I pulled the title from Hozier's "From Eden"
> 
> P.P.S: Someone please tell me that "Almost (Sweet Music)" also by Hozier is such a beauyasha song.


	2. What Caused the Wound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title was inspired by "In the Woods Somewhere" by Hozier. (Yes every chapter will have a Hozier lyric shsks)
> 
> Ch.1 Summary: In the middle of the night, Yasha opened her door to a drunken, beaten Beau. Despite initial tensions, Yasha patches up her ex and allows her to stay for the night, giving mirroring a small apology from Beau before returning to her room.

  The feeling of a good night’s rest began to seep into Yasha’s form as she rose from her sleep.

  Only to be cut off by the near-forgotten dread of the woman she let in her home last night.

  Yasha rolled off her bed and made her way to her living room, where she found a napkin resting on her coffee table and a clean cup resting in the dish rack in the adjacent kitchen. She squinted and read the hastily scribbled note left on the tissue.

_Hey Yash,_

_I know I shouldn’t have barged in last night._

_I’m going back to the bar to pick up my car and hopefully leave you alone. Gonna unblock you just in case you wanna talk again at a better time._

_Sorry._

Yasha brushed her thumb against the rough signature at the end of the message and folded the napkin with a careful sentiment. The parcel’s color was near the same paleness of her skin, emboldening the bled-through message through its layers.

  Quiet knocks cut through the silence. A couple harder knocks came through before the apparently unlocked door swung open to a cleaned-up Beau throwing her keys to the coffee table.

  “Fuckin’ asshole. Shitsticks.” Beau glanced up from her phone to see a frozen giant tucking away a napkin into her pajama’s pocket. “Sorry Yash, I think I’m gonna have to stay with you for a while. At least until I can get my car back.”

  “I can’t drive you to your place?” Yasha mumbled, pressing the napkin further into her pocket.

  “It’s all the way across the city, you’d be spending two tanks of fuel on me.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  Beau glanced between Yasha and the doorway.

  “So…I can stay?”

  “For now.” she affirmed, pulling her hands back into the open.

  An unsteady silence filled the room.

  The uncomfortable beats of silence continued until Beau made her way to the couch and sat, where Yasha joined her on the other side of the furniture.

  While the silence was awkward at best, the two came to relax, and in their own time tap on their phones without thought, curled up and refusing to cut the silence they were in. Yasha, though not one normally irked by pure noiselessness, turned on her television to have white noise replace the quiet air.

  Beau instinctively felt her brow raise at the woman’s fidgety nature but paid no mind as she continued scrolling through the apps on her phone.

  Minutes melted into hours and the early morning sky shifted into afternoon colors.

  Leftover sandwiches were shared between the two and both ate in silence.

  “Beau.”

  “Yeah?”

  “If you are okay with it, our friends and I are going out to…celebrate tonight at the Evening Nip. You can come with us if you’d like.”

  “Celebrate?” Beau’s voice wavered through the syllables, her eyes gazing into Yasha’s.

  “He always said we should celebrate his birthday or his…”

  Beau nodded to stop Yasha from finishing.

  “But I need to visit him first.” she finished, pinching the napkin in her pocket.

  In near-reverential silence, the two cleaned themselves up with what they could and rode their way to a graveyard run by a peaceful hermit.

  The low hum of the car’s engine presented an audible backdrop to the skies outside. Beau leaned against the glass, basking in the sun high in the air, though it traveled closer to the western gradient of warm colors.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Yasha spotted Beau’s eyes drooping before shutting completely. She smiled to herself and felt comfort in Beau’s small snores that filtered through the once silent air.

  While the ride was without issue, the driver couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread growing in the pit of her stomach. This morning was one thing, but recalling what today was seemed to add what felt like a metric fuck-ton of weight into her consciousness. Her snoring ex didn’t help assuage that anxiety, either.

  Yet, with a few deep breaths, Yasha felt her emotions even out when she arrived at the front gates of the graveyard.

  Beau woke to Yasha’s hand on her shoulder and both women walked in silence to the ostentatious tombstone of their old friend. They sat on damp grass, their eyes fixated on the name etched into the gray tablet.

  Minutes passed while the sun continued to sink towards the horizon.

  A tear slipped down Yasha’s cheek.

  “It’s only been a year but it feels…longer.” she whispered, reaching forward to grip the weathered stone with her calloused hand.

  A swish of liquor responded to the statement, as Beau held out her flask.

  “I hear you.”

  A flash of anger washed over Yasha’s features. Still, when teal eyes pleaded in silence, the anger faded. She sighed to herself and accepted the flask, gulping down two-thirds of it before handing it back.

  The small buzz filled Yasha’s head as the remnants of bourbon burned her throat. It was painful, yes, but she could see why Beau preferred it over other methods of relaxing.

  Silence gently slipped into the void between the two, its presence stilling past anxieties both had felt.

  In time, the flask was passed back and forth until both women had a noticeable buzz in their heads and the flask was dry.

  “Yash,” Beau began, moving to gaze into dampened eyes with her own. “why d-did you always leave ‘til he was gone?” she slurred.

  “I-”

  An engine behind the graveyard hummed and cut off, effectively shutting Yasha’s mouth. Beau knit her brows and turned back towards the procession making their way towards the two. It was their friends, including the grave’s hermit.

  Beau groaned and waved them off, holding up both her hands and shooing them away, which they all reluctantly obeyed.

  Eyes met once more and Yasha steeled herself, staring at a budding purple hyacinth flower between her and the tombstone.

  “I was not there for him. Not for him or-” Yasha stopped herself. “I was not there for him the final moments he breathed, not even when the system failed him.”         

  Yasha moved her gaze back towards her ex’s face, contorted in guilt.

  “Yash, it’s too fuckin’ late for guilt.” Beau spat, leaning against a tombstone behind her.

  Anger gripped her form. Yasha turned to better glare at Beau, grasping at the dirt over Molly’s grave.

  “S-Sorry, I didn’t-didn’t mean it like that.” she stammered, glancing at the name behind Yasha’s form.

  “Beauregard _._ My guilt, my _failure_ as his friend has done much more than you have after his passing.” Yasha snapped.

  Teal eyes narrowed.

“I’m sorry, the _fuck_ you mean your guilt’s done more? Wha-What, ‘cause I’m just like the jackass that got him killed? _The same jackass_ that ended _his life_ and not _mine?_ ” Beau growled, standing with her fist clenched around her flask.

  After the words fell from her lips, Beau snapped her mouth shut, looking once more away from Yasha.

  The other woman rose to her full height and glared down.

  “I’m not doing this right now. Not on his grave.”

  Beau nodded.

  The two simultaneously relaxed, as gentle hands came to rest on their shoulders.

  “Come now, I think your friends want you two to let them say their words of remembrance before you all head to the bar. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” the voice rumbled, as Caduceus led the two past their friends and back to their car.

  The stiff silence that held the two relaxed while they watched their friends leave flowers and solemn messages to the tombstone that marked Mollymauk Tealeaf’s grave.

                                                                                                                                                                                   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh you read the entire thing! I'm so sorry it took so long to finish this next chapter. Thank you for reading and dropping kudos and all that snazzy stuff. I'd love any feedback you can give me and I appreciate the comments on the last chapter. See you next chapter!
> 
> EDIT: I don't know why I forgot to mention why I added specific details. I had bourbon as the liquor in Beau's flask because it was what she tasted in those biscuits at Yussa's tower. (Purple) Hyacinth is a flower that means sorrow and the request for forgiveness.


	3. Just a Little Rush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title came from "Sedated" by Hozier. Also, if you want a song that kinda gives you perspective on Beau and Yasha's relationship preceding this fic, then listen to "Don't You Love Me?" by Abbey Glover. It's on Youtube and it hurts my heart but...yeah. 
> 
> Ch.2 Summary: Yasha wakes up to a morning note from Beau, apologizing for the previous night. When acclimating to her morning, Beau re-enters her appartment, sharing that she would likely have to stay with Yasha for the time being. The two settle into silence and eventually Yasha invites Beau to drink with their other friends to celebrate Molly's life. The two stop by his grave first, sharing a flask of bourbon and getting into an argument. The two stop their argument and Caduceus leads them away to allow their other friends to pay their respects.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

  The eclectic group of friends shoved their way through the worn-down doors of the Evening Nip, all eyes trained on the bar.

  In their hearts they felt that Molly was cheering them on, urging them to make this day of sorrow into a day of happiness.

  Drink after drink was served, and even as the bartenders slowed their pace, they couldn’t resist the extra cash in their pockets that the group easily forked over.

  Every now and then two of the procession would make a quick bet against each other and down shot after shot in a row, maintaining an alarming pace until one would nearly throw up their drink on a wooden surface.

  Yasha’s eyes were reaching a point where they almost shut while finishing her second round. Out of the corner of blurred vision, she saw a 20 dollar bill get slammed onto the threadbare surface in front of her, almost dampened by the ring of gin from her own drink. A warm hand placed itself on Yasha’s forearm, nearing a comfortable touch before it shook the giant out of her dazed state.

  “Yasha. I’m betting 20 bucks that you,” Beau paused to burp. “can’t finish this half-pint of rum before I can.”

  A brow raised at the challenge.

  “Make it 40.”

  Eyes were locked on the two as Beau ordered the drinks they would hastily consume, keeping a lopsided grin plastered on her face the whole time.

  Their hands gripped the cool glass while Jester, just like a drunk person would, stumbled her way to the two. While excited in her own right, there was an edge of wariness in her expression when she looked at them. She shook herself and gripped her friend's shoulders.

  “Five.”

  Yasha’s knuckles paled.

  “Four.”

  Beau’s eyes flickered to the less sun-weathered ring around Yasha’s ring finger.

  “Three.”

  Yasha took notice and switched her hand.

  “Two-”

  Beau grit her teeth and jerked the cup to her mouth, pouring the alcohol down her gullet.

  Yasha wasted no time and did the same, keeping her eyes on Beau, who looked like she was about to pass out at every gulp she took.

  Yet, with her focus on Beau, she found herself bearing witness to the woman slamming her pint down, waiting for her opponent to do the same. Yasha finished after a couple seconds, sighing and sliding the bills towards Beau.

  Holding back the urge to throw up, Yasha ordered a glass of water before she ordered a highball of gin.

  Beau was nearly unconscious herself when a familiar pale hand landed on her shoulder.

  “Beau?” Yasha slurred.

  “Ye-” a hiccup interrupted. “Yeah?”

  “Why leave the Cobalt Soul?”

  Beau froze for a moment, swirling the remnants of a shot in its glass. The ex-monk reached an epiphany and scoffed.

  “They didn’t do _jack shit_ when he died.”

  “Oh.”

  Beau chuckled to herself and smirked at her ex, grabbing a new shot glass from a distressed bartender.

  “You thought it was ’cause of this, huh?” she raised the small vessel and tossed its contents into her mouth.

  “Yes.”

  Yasha nursed the last of her gin, drawing out any sips she took.

  The buzz in her head was padded by the dull thuds of bass in the bar, lulling her into a short nap.

  Before a soft nudge moved her aside.

  “What about you, Yash?”

  “I…I realized that maybe The St-Kord never helped to heal anything from my past.” Yasha stared at the glistened bottom of her cup before raising her gaze to Beau’s attentive eyes. “Or my present.”

  Purple and green met teal and the white noise from their friend’s chats faded to the back of their minds.

  “I can safely say that the Cobalt Soul can fuck off.”

  “The Stormlord can too.”

  The two shared a tentative smile, diverting their gazes back into their drinks.

  “You guys,” Jester coughed, wiping away the source-less sugar on her mouth. “the bar’s about to close, we gotta go home!”

  Fjord piped up, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  “It’s alright, Caleb and I can drive the gang home. But what about you two?”

  Yasha waved the Texan off, pointing at her phone.

  “I’ll just get an uber and get a tow truck later.”

   Beau felt her body lock in place for a moment, earning the attention of blue eyes. Her old friend took her aside and sat her down in a booth. Caleb placed a solemn hand on her shoulder, guiding her breathing until Beau felt in her body again. A tight, but encouraging smile graced his face as he let her go, the two hugging briefly before he left.

  Yasha gave her own goodbyes to Fjord and Jester, giving a quick pat on Nott’s head, and turning to a Beau that was letting Caleb go. Beau’s change in position must have slipped her mind.

  The two were left alone on the curb outside the bar.

  The blur of time between the curb and the outside of Yasha’s door seemed to happen in an instant, and by the time the taller of the two was going through her keys, Beau’s cheeks were warm for reasons outside the booze.

  Yasha seemed to be slightly less aware of her surroundings. By the time her door swung open and she moved to step inside, a grip around her wrist turned her around and pulled her down to Beau’s level.

  Beau’s lips pulled into a sly grin as she leaned over Yasha’s shoulder and nipped her ear.

  “I kinda want to kiss you.” Beau whispered.

  Yasha’s cheeks flushed rose, a subconscious lip bite appearing on her face. Yasha smirked and pulled back, effortlessly lifting Beau up and made her way to her bedroom, slamming her front door shut.

  It might’ve been a drunken decision, but Yasha found herself pulling layer after layer off of Beau’s body. While not intentional, Yasha’s lips were focused on hickies she scrutinized only a day ago.

  Beau couldn’t suppress any of the moans forcing their way through her throat, hissing each time Yasha’s lips bared teeth that bit down on spots still healing.

  Deft fingers undid Beau’s last shirt, and Yasha leaned back from her position straddling Beau. Their eyes met briefly but broke apart when Beau pulled Yasha into a sloppy kiss, hands traveling anywhere they could.

  Yasha began trailing nips and kisses from Beau’s jaw before she stopped again at the same hickey she was trying to impose. Beau couldn’t help another hiss, gripping Yasha’s shirt. An inebriated smirk drew across Yasha’s lips, nipping one more time before moving on.

 The woman did quick work of Beau’s bra, tossing it aside, locking eyes with Beau before continuing.

  Even within multiple levels of ecstasy, Beau gave her best affirmation before falling apart at Yasha’s lips.

  Yasha yanked Beau’s jeans down, once more looking into her ex’s eyes before slipping her fingers into Beau, leaning down for a kiss to stop her from moaning too loud.

  Pacing her partner, Yasha made sure to stop her ministrations when Beau pleaded her to continue, planting a quick kiss on her lips and clamping down on the hickey, only continuing when Beau’s grip felt like it would rip her clothes off.

  While it seemed to fade into the depths of a lack of memory, Yasha’s clothes eventually came off and Beau’s nails were raking down her back when she was close once more.

  Even if it was pleasing to hold back, Yasha pushed her digits in and watched as Beau’s back arched and a blissful moan escaped her lips.

  Beau could barely begin to move her way towards Yasha’s form before she, even if drunk, caught a glimpse of Yasha’s tears. Regardless of the release she felt, Beau sobered up, pulling Yasha into a hug and resting her head onto her own bare shoulder, letting warm tears trail down her skin.

  Yasha didn’t expect to fall asleep so soon after that, yet even in sleep, she could feel the weight next to her lift. Yasha’s eyes burst open, grabbing for the weight that was leaving.

  “Zu-Beauregard.” she coughed out, her hand on the other’s wrist.

  “I was gonna sleep on the couch so you didn’t have to-”

  “Please stay.”

  The plea didn’t intend to sound so desperate, but it seemed to work.

  Beau, in tentative silence, lied down beneath the covers, freezing when Yasha’s arms wrapped around her. She relaxed in her arms, closing her eyes and moving in closer to her ex.

  The two found sleep easily in their embrace, as the sun began to rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boyyyy mistakes were made under influence. Anyway, thank you for reading this chapter and if you're wondering, I have up to chapter six completely written and am currently working on chapter seven. Leave kudos and critiques if you'd like, and see you next chapter!
> 
> EDIT: I once more forgot to mention why I added specific details. The reason why Beau won the little bet was because I rolled straight constitution checks for her and Yasha (using their level seven stats courtesy of critrolestats).


	4. Don't Ruin This on Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from "Almost (Sweet Music)" by Hozier. Also, sorry for uploading this so late??? I kept playing video games (aka Apex Legends but you don't care about that).
> 
> Ch.3 Summary: The group of friends stumbled into the Evening Nip, and after a small drinking competition between the two, Beau and Yasha have a candid conversation. Before going home, Beau freezes up at the mention of something sensitive, and Caleb helps bring her back to reality. After arriving at Yasha's appartment, Beau and Yasha drunkenly have intercourse, Beau staying with her ex after seeing tears.

  Blurred vision was the first thing Yasha noticed when she woke up.

  The second was the horrible, throbbing headache which followed soon after.

  The third was the side of her bed that was neatly made and empty.

  Sighing to herself, Yasha looked around for a messy yet signature note of Beau’s but found none. Mildly surprised, Yasha brushed the expectation off and moved to her kitchen, stopping when a cup of indiscernible muck almost spilled onto her shirt.

  “Morning.”

  “What is…this?” Yasha muttered, staring at the menagerie of colors in the drink.

  “Molly gave me this once during a drunken bender in Hupperduke. It’ll ease the pain.”

  With a brow raised, Yasha removed the cup from her hands and took a sip. After a moment or two, the drink felt like it alleviated some of the pain. Though, the cocky smirk on Beau’s end almost brought the headache back.

  “Thank you, Beau.”

  A nod was sent her way, and Beau fidgeted with her own drink, trying to work up her courage for something. Yasha smiled to herself and put her cup down on the kitchen’s counter, crossing her arms and staring at Beau.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “Me? Nothing. But I kinda need a favor.” she sputtered.

  Yasha narrowed her eyes at the usually confident woman, her mind wandering to the fuzzy, unclear events of the night before.

  “Well?”

  “Can you drive me to my rehab center? I know you’re still…out of it, but I don’t wanna overstay.” she spoke, her eyes trained on the floor.

  “Rehab? Since when have you tried stopping?” Yasha asked.

  “That’s _really_ not important.”

  “How long has it been since you’ve actually gone?”

  Beau dug in her pocket and flicked a coin in Yasha’s direction.

  Eyes still trained on Beau, Yasha caught the metal between her index and middle fingers, only breaking her distrusting gaze to look at the details of the item in her hand.

  “I got my 30-day chip thing…but I broke it.”

  Yasha’s memories cleared.

  “When did you get this?” Yasha inquired.

  Beau snatched the chip from her grasp, cheeks flushed and eyes holding back a troubled mind from speaking.

  “Fuck off.” Beau spat.

  Yasha rolled her eyes.

  “Fine. I got it the other day. But that _same_ day I messed up, I already told you why. Anyway, I should’ve been picked up by now but I guess Caleb didn’t snitch.”

  “You only broke it on Thursday?”

  Current revelations felled Yasha’s previous assumptions about Beau’s reasons for her actions.

  “Yeah. I know I’m fucked up and dependent on that shit but I’m tired-”

  “I’ll drive you.” Yasha said, holding a hand up to stop Beau.

  In shock, Beau didn’t cease thanking Yasha the whole walk to her car, still reeling that they didn’t have a big argument to get reach this solution.

  Driving to the center was mundane at best, but there were a few minutes of tension when an old song of theirs played from Yasha’s playlist.

  Yasha’s shoulders tensed, and her grip on the wheel tightened when a tenor voice rung through the interior space, pleading for his heart to keep still and not ruin the moment.

  The rest of the lyrics brought clarity and nostalgia about returning to a semblance of the past, ringing a painful similarity to the situation Yasha found herself in.

  When glancing to her side, Yasha saw Beau’s eyes focused on the dash, though the music seemed to have elicited suppressed tears from her eyes.

  Not much else came from the drive.

  Beau’s eyes locked on the glass doors that were a few paces from where Yasha’s car was stopped, but in her mind, it felt like it was a mile away. The woman took a deep breath in and faced her ex.

  “When I get better, can we grab a cup of coffee and chat?” Beau asked, voice shaking from a source-less anxiety settled in the pit of her stomach.

  “Beauregard-”

  Yasha stopped when she met her eyes, tears building and falling down her face.

  “Beau?”

  The woman in question shifted and wiped away tears that streaked her cheeks, chuckling.

  “Sorry I kept forgetting about you and pushing shit on you. Molly would’ve kicked my ass for how I treated you. I’ll be better, I promise.” Beau stated, pulling Yasha into a quick hug before opening her door.

  Beau stopped when a firm hand held hers.

  “We will get coffee. Hopefully, I’ll be better too, Beau.” she promised, a melancholic tone lacing her words.

  The two smiled at each other, breaking it off when Beau stepped out and marched into the pristine building that felt too good for her.

  Just like others she’d met in the past.

  “I’m here to check in.”

  The clerk smirked and looked at his friend.

  “Beauregard, where have you been?” he teased, pushing up his glasses.

  “Out and about, Caleb, that’s all.” she remarked.

  “Of course. Well, I should get you to your room, your free time is almost over for today.” Caleb paused and made a few calculations in his head. “Your one-on-one session today is in nine minutes.”

  Beau scoffed.

  “You haven’t lost your edge, Widogast.”

  “It has only been 27 hours, 15 minutes, and 33 seconds since I have last,” Caleb dropped his voice. “ _technically_ seen you.”

  The two made their way to her room, and Beau found herself determined to change, calm and completely in charge.

  That didn’t last long.

  A meaty hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, too quick for Caleb to intervene.

  “Interesting that the one who put me here is in my situation too. I guess you had a lesson to learn from me.” a man drawled, sickly yellowed eyes meeting Beau’s.

  Behind the voice was a familiar sight to both Beau and Caleb. A bald head with tattoos stretching from his neck to the side of his head, piercings on his ears and lips, the latter of which was curled into a wide smile, yellowed teeth peeking through his unkempt beard.

  “You piece of-” she spat, hands curling into fists.

  “Beauregard, don’t.” Caleb warned, eyes focused on his friend as he pried the man’s grip from her shoulder.

  “Listen to me before you run off. You cause trouble for me, I’ll make sure the next car you step into’ll be your last. Just like that fa-”

  “No need for that language, sir.” Caleb pulled Beau’s shirt. “Let’s go, Beau.”

  Beau rolled her eyes and glared at the giant of a man while being gently pulled away by Caleb.

  “Fuck you, Lorenzo.”

  “Fuck me indeed.” he chuckled, walking away.

  Beau flicked him off and more willingly followed Caleb’s lead back into her room, not relaxing until Caleb shut the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turn a new leaf, amirite?
> 
> Obligatory explanation of specific details: 
> 
> The song that played in Yasha's car is the song this chapter's title is based on. 
> 
> The idea of Molly being behind the mystery cure for a hangover was based on him using his blood powers back in Hupperduke (I think it was in the 24th or 25th episode). 
> 
> Yes I picked Thursday on purpose. 
> 
> Yes I legitimately calculated the time between Beau leaving the center and her coming back (of course using an online calculator but still). 
> 
> Yes I purposefully made her session in nine minutes.
> 
> Finally, if it wasn't obvious the "fuck you," line is from episode 26.
> 
> Anyway, drop some kudos, comments, critiques - all of it. Thank you for reading and see you next chapter!


	5. I'm Singing Like a Bird 'Bout it Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is from "Shrike" by Hozier.
> 
> Ch. 4 Summary: Yasha wakes up the morning after her drunken bender, and Beau requests a ride to her rehab center. When Yasha asks, Beau reveals that she had broken her 30-day sobriety the very day she knocked on Yasha's door. Yasha agrees to drive Beau to the center and both agree to get coffee after Beau sobers up. At the center, Beau greets Caleb and runs into Lorenzo.
> 
> NOTE: You might've noticed that I've added summaries of the previous chapter to each new chapter (i.g. a summary for chapter 4 on chapter 5). This is so that you can recall what happened last chapter and not be lost at what's happening in the story.

  Seconds materialized in maddening clicks of a clock, the only thing making noise in the room.

  The woman sighed and took off her glasses.

  “Beauregard-”

  “Beau.”

  “ _Beau_ , it’s my understanding that you relapsed, but you’re back and determined to sober up again. Would you like to talk about why?” she mused, leaning forward in rapt attention.

  “I do. It’s just-it’s just really hard to put into words.” Beau admitted, playing with the metal chip in her hand.

  The woman nodded.

  “Take your time, you’re safe here.”

  “Dairon, I’m not safe when that son of a bitch is here.” Beau leaned back into her chair. “But this session’s about me, I know.”

  She nodded again.

  “I guess it’s probably best if I start at the beginning.”

  Beau pulled out three tarot cards, placing them down towards her therapist, all upwards.

  “He did a fucking reading for me while he was bleeding out.”

  _A gripping pain wracked Beau’s body, pressure building in her head. Glancing around, she saw the world was upside down, and so was her friend._

_The driver seemed to be unconscious too._

_“Keg? Molly, get up.” she groaned._

_Clicking the buckle, Beau dropped from her seat and onto the roof of Keg’s car, ignoring the cuts caused by broken glass pressing into her back._

_Slowly, Beau pulled the other two passengers out, laying them onto the asphalt road._

_Beau faded out of consciousness, and when she woke up, her eyes were looking into amber eyes, barely making out panicked words. Keg seemed to be on the phone, and sitting up, she saw a stranger outside a different car that was on fire._

_His body seemed barely scathed by the flames, but the side of his face not tattooed was bubbling and layers of skin were burned away._

_Looking to her left, she met Molly’s eyes, who were blinking open._

_“Molly! You okay?” she spat, forcing her body to move closer, wincing at injuries that made themselves known._

_“No.” he rasped, pointing at metal shrapnel that embedded itself in his solar plexus._

_Once pristine, Molly’s signature white shirt had a spot of blood spreading outwards, even onto his ridiculous looking jacket. He still wore a cocky smirk, as if he wasn’t dying on a road in the middle of nowhere, without the only person he was riding home for._

_“I’m sorry, Molly.” she choked, trying to put pressure on the wound that stained his white shirt._

_“I’m fine.”_

_Beau glanced back at Keg, who still seemed on the phone with emergency responders. The sound of thin plastic slapping against asphalt brought her panicked gaze back towards Molly._

_“What are you doing?”_

_“Final reading. You never liked these, but maybe there’s hope for you.” he chuckled, placing down the last card._

_“Molly-“_

_A tattooed hand was raised. Molly pulled Beau into a tight hug, wary of his wound and the cards between the two. Taking a deep breath, he leaned into Beau’s ear, gripping her shirt with bloodied hands._

_“Take care of Yasha for me.” he spoke, eyes shimmering with tears._

_“I will.” Beau promised._

_Smiling to himself, Molly leaned onto the glass-sprinkled road, eyes never shut._

Opening her eyes, Beau wiped away tears that stained her cheeks.

  “Long may he reign.” she chuckled with bitterness in her voice, glowering at the middle card.

  “Would you like to talk about these cards?”

  Beau inwardly winced staring at the blood speckled on the middle card.

  “Sure.”

  Beau leaned forward and pointed at the card furthest left to Dairon.

  “These cards were supposed to be a reading of my past, present, and future. At that time, of course. Upward facing Devil, Death, and Lovers. I swear he picked the cards himself.” she said.

  “What do they mean?” Dairon queried, clicking her pen and readying her paper.

  “The Devil means I was attached to bad shit, messing up and letting past experiences control me. That wasn’t too off the mark. Death, upright, means that I was getting a new start.” Beau’s eyes focused on blood scattered throughout the image and border. “I think Molly was just trying to crack a joke.”

  Beau took a deep breath in and moved her finger to the last card.

  “Finally, the Lovers mean clarity, vulnerability, and honesty. It was his dying wish for me and Yasha.”

  Dairon nodded, finishing a note.

  “And Yasha, how does she fit into your desire to reach sobriety?”

  Beau collected the cards and held up the Lovers card to her therapist.

  “After and even before his death, Yasha and I haven’t been on the best terms. I wanna fix things with her, _for once_ keep a promise I made. She’s still healing from something, and I guess it was why we never fit with each other back then. But seeing her for the past few days…I wanna be there for her now, and make her happy.” Beau admitted, pinching the card in her hand.

  “You mentioned seeing her in the past few days. Was there any specific reason in relation to Molly or Yasha that made you come back here today?”

  “I messed up and took the easy route last night, and I was almost ready to… _use_ her until tears were in her eyes.” Beau spat.

  Eyes trained on her own hands, Beau jerked back when Dairon’s touch was on her shoulder.

  “You’ve made great progress today. You found a good reason to stay sober, and maybe parts of why you had an issue with it in the first place. You’re doing good, Beau.” Dairon chimed, smiling.

  “Thanks, Dairon.”

  Free time the next day seemed stale at best, especially when Beau couldn’t call anyone or interrupt Caleb’s job.

  Beau settled on meditating by the on-site lake, resting herself on the docks.

  The air around her stilled, and the noise of wildlife and the center’s activity fading from the forefront of her mind. Meditation wasn’t a task she was proficient in, but she couldn’t deny the aid of the previous day’s admissions.

  In her peaceful state, Beau nearly ignored the heavy footfalls behind her.

  “If it isn’t Beauregard. I had a meeting here with someone important, but this is much better.” a drawl chided.

  Beau could practically hear the cocky grin in his voice.

  “Jesus, Lorenzo. You can’t leave someone who’s not bothering you alone, can you?” Beau retorted, crossing her arms.

  “Not when that someone put me here.” he spat.

  “Shut up. You’re an oversized Freddy Krueger who thought that I caused your issues. Newsflash, that was all you, buddy.”

  “Look at yourself. You blame your drinking problem and his death on me…but last I checked it was you who let him bleed out, and you who asked him to drink that night.” Lorenzo sneered, eyes trained on Beau.

  Beau’s hands curled into fists, and anger bubbled in her throat. Hot tears prickled her eyes, and Beau shoved a hand in her pocket, gripping a card.

  “Fuck off. Meet whoever you were going to meet here. Leave _me_ alone.” Beau growled, marching back to her room.

  When her muscles relaxed, Beau pulled out the card she had been holding.

  The skeletal face of death, glimmering with highlights of gold and blood, stared back at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all need to start somewhere and talk about old wounds. 
> 
> Details Notes: Yes, I deliberately had to google those three cards and their upright meaning. And yeah, I had Keg as the Uber driver on purpose (and yes, Molly and Beau were being responsible to order a ride home).
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading. Please leave kudos, critiques, comments, any or none of them. See you next chapter!


	6. I'm Flying Like a Bird to You Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title also comes from "Shrike" by Hozier. 
> 
> Ch.5 Summary: Beau speaks to her therapist, Dairon, and explains that one of her main reasons for coming back was Molly's tarot reading. She further explained the guilt she felt when she slept with Yasha, admitting that wanting to be there for Yasha was the other reason for her return. The next day, Beau meditates at the on-site lake, interrupted by Lorenzo. She sent a few words his way and retired to her room.

  While she had done it reluctantly, Yasha accepted an invitation of brunch with Caduceus and Jester.

  However, she didn’t expect for both of them to eye her suspiciously the entire time they were ordering and waiting for their food.

  “Could you two please stop doing that?” Yasha asked.

  Jester and Caduceus stiffened.

  “Stop doing what, Yasha?” Jester inquired, working to keep a naïve tone in her voice.

  “Staring at me like that. This seems more of an interrogation than a brunch.”

  “Oh, you’re asking us to stop politely. That’s nice.” Caduceus droned, sending a lazy grin her way.

  Yasha glared at the two.

  The dentist and the undertaker both glanced at each other, stopping their once incessant stares, though Caduceus seemed to be more oblivious to the reason why.

  Caduceus stared through the window behind Yasha, admiring the bees. Jester, on the other hand, wasn’t fond of the silence. Hands were kept busy with her well-worn journal, though her eyes couldn’t say the same. Her gaze flicked up to Yasha, studying features defined by the sunlight near behind her.

  “Where has Beau been?” Jester asked, sticking a lollipop in her mouth.

   “She’s making herself better.”

  Caduceus narrowed his eyes.

  “Better?” he questioned, straw hat drooping over his eyes, a wash of worry flooding his expression.

  “She’s not drinking. She’s in rehab.”

  Caduceus and Jester both let out a sigh of relief as their food was served.

  Beats of silence followed only interrupted by the collision of utensils. Yasha paid no mind to the absence of conversation, nor did Caduceus. Yet Jester was irked by the lack of noise and glancing up into her friend’s eyes, she saw the face of a worried woman.

  “Are you okay, Yasha?”

  Tears she didn’t notice were there prickled her eyes. Yasha wiped them away with a deft hand, eyes still focused on the table and food in front of her and not her friends.

  The fear in her heart almost held her tongue from speaking, but looking into the patient eyes of Jester and Caduceus stilled the anxiety that had been building up.

  “It’s the anniversary of a bad memory. But it only makes me worry for how I’ve treated Beau.” she muttered, fighting tears that didn’t seem to stop.

  “It’s alright to feel sad or worry over these sorts of things. You letting this out is a great first step.” Caduceus said, placing a hand on hers.

  “He’s right Yasha. Caduceus and I don’t know why you’re crying but it’s okay.” Jester chimed in.

  “I know. I want to fix things with her, and that I need to change. But I can’t help but think of Molly and Zuala whenever I try to do so.” Yasha admitted.

  Jester and Caduceus shared glances.

  “Who’s Zuala?”

  _The murky depths of the past seemed to flow back into Yasha’s memory._

_She placed the golden band onto Zuala’s finger, a smile plastered onto her face as she pulled her into a kiss, holding her tight._

_The warmth in her chest was incomparable to any other she’d ever felt. The love of her life was right in front of her, and the brown hair covering her face after she leaped up into her own arms seemed to be forever imprinted in her mind._

_Their marriage was perfect, even if the only other person in attendance was the judge who pronounced them married._

_Keeping their relationship under wraps was difficult at best, and straining at worst. They both always had to take off their rings when in the presence of Yasha’s mother, yet they had each other and that was all that seemed to matter._

_One day, their apparent luck ran out._

_“Why can’t you just tell her, Yasha?” Zuala pleaded, eyes boring into Yasha’s._

_“I don’t want you to get hurt.” she whispered, threading her fingers through her wife’s hair._

_“I could give less of a damn about what your mother would do! We can run away from here, the group’s falling apart anyway.” Zuala retorted, gently pulling away from Yasha’s touch._

_Yasha’s mother entered her home, and the wives neglected to take off their matching engagement ring. The green eyes of her caretaker focused on the golden bands._

_“Yasha? Why?” she spat, resting her hand on something behind her hip._

_“Mother, I love her. I know you think it’s wrong but we…care for each other.” Yasha pleaded, taking Zuala’s hand in hers._

_The elder pulled out a pistol from behind her back and aimed it at Zuala._

_“Yasha, please step away from her.” she threatened, resting her finger on the trigger._

_“Are you crazy?” Yasha spat, eyes fixated on the gun._

_Zuala tightened her grip on her wife’s hand, looking into her eyes, tears juxtaposing the smile she carried on her lips._

_“Go.”_

_Zuala rushed towards Yasha’s mother and a loud clap resounded in the room, akin to lightning._

_Yasha, though in shock, ran out of the room, ran out of her home._

_She could only run._

_Run until she landed on the doorsteps of the Stormlord’s church, where his Incarnate, Kord, took Yasha in with open arms._

“I am a very unlucky person, and I don’t believe in luck.” Yasha choked out, eyeing the ring she placed between her and her friends.

  “Yasha…I’m so sorry.”

  Yasha sent a sad smile Jester’s way.

  “It’s okay. I lose people I love, is all. I don’t want the same to happen to Beau. But I know the day I pick her up is the day I want to be there for her. I don’t want to be the same person that left her so often I missed the trial that gave her and Molly justice.” Yasha sighed. “But I don’t want to forget Zuala either.”

  “I’m not sure if this helps, but I think hearts are capable of caring for more than one person. I love my family, and I care for you all too. You can do the same.” Caduceus rumbled, sipping his tea.

  “That’s right, Yasha. I could also help you always remember your wife, though I’m sure she’d happy if you fall in love again.”

  “It’s unfair to her…we made a vow.” Yasha backpedaled, eyes catching the glean of her ring.

  “Well, Jester said she could help you remember your wife.”

  Yasha nodded, taking the ring off the table.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  Entering Jester’s room, Yasha gulped at the array of tools Jester had displayed on a tray, with Caduceus watching like a child.

  “I thought you were a pediatrician, Jester.” Yasha spoke, her voice wavering every other syllable.

  “I am, but I did some _wild stuff_ with Fjord when we took a vacation to Nicodranas.” Jester answered, picking up her needles and ink.

  Yasha nodded and anxiously settled herself on the edge of Jester’s bed, taking deep breaths.

  Jester inked her skin, creating a band of forget-me-nots around her ring finger, the black-trimmed petals outlined by irritated skin.

  “That’s nice. Good job, Jester.” Caduceus spoke, patting his friend’s back.

  “Thanks, Caduceus!” Jester put down her tools. “Now you’ll never forget your beautiful wife. Though I’m sure she’s still super happy for you and Beau.”

  Yasha smiled at the tattoo, tears welling.

  She leaned forward and in silence pulled the two into a hug, tears streaming down her face.

  “Thank you. I needed this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for uploading a couple hours late??? I was out getting a haircut and other stuff you don't care about. Anyway, sorry again.
> 
> Detail Notes: Yasha's progress on her conversation with Jes and Cad back in episode 46, though this doesn't take place after an epic fight with a ball of lightning. Perhaps unintentionally, Cad's worry over Beau's alcoholism was inspired by his in-game worry for Nott's alcoholism. And yeah, I headcanoned Sky Spear to be Yasha's mom. Also, Yash's awkard dialogue in the flashback was partly my fault and partly because of her upbringing with her mother. Oh yeah, since there are no "gods" per se in this AU, Kord's like a pope or prophet. Finally, the idea for Yasha's tattoo came from a comic by redelicebeta on tumblr (comic: http://redelicebeta.tumblr.com/post/182502126131/zuala)


	7. Pure Motive Inside Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is technically a song but it hasn't been released officially, rather just performed during his tour (I think). Anyway, this chapter's title is from "Blood" by Hozier.
> 
> Ch.6 Summary: Yasha attends brunch with Caduceus and Jester, yet after periods of awkward silence and even more awkward stares, Yasha admits her worry over Beau, even telling the duo about her wife. The two console her, and Jester gives Yasha a tattoo around her ring finger to have a way to remember Zuala.

  The five months that passed in the center were drab and monotonous, but Beau felt her cravings for booze fading. The support of Dairon and Caleb seemed to affirm that feeling.

  The only thing that truly stayed constant in her time at the center was Lorenzo’s nagging, who always seemed like he had more alcohol than he was allowed at any given point during those five months.

  Beau’s thoughts swirled, and though they were something to ponder, she suppressed those in favor of meditating. Even if the idea of drinking coffee with Yasha was interesting.

  In the beginning, Beau could barely keep still for more than five minutes.

  Now she was practically taking up her entire free block of time to meditate. Of course she still exercised and made time for chatting with Caleb, but her meditation took more time than anything else.

  In the stillness of her meditation, the sound of wildlife and the compound’s inner workings faded to the back of her mind.

  A minute passed.

  A few more.

  Each intake of breath slowed her mind and everything almost felt right.

  Heavy steps followed by lighter ones almost slipped her perception.

  A heavy hand landed on her collar and pulled her up.

  “I thought you changed where you meditated.” he slurred.

  The scent of alcohol seemed to waft in Beau’s direction without relief, her nose assaulted by a once familiar and comforting smell.

  “I thought I asked you to leave me alone, Lorenzo.”

  Glancing behind his form, Beau saw Caleb rush down the hillside that led towards the lake.

  “Guess what day it is?” Lorenzo barked, tightening his grip on her collar.

  “What is it, Chromedome?” Beau spat, almost laughing to herself for the insult her and Keg made.

  “It’s the one year anniversary of you and your lawyer fucking me over.” he growled.

  Beau’s eyes widened, unable to anticipate his move.

  Lorenzo chuckled and drove a fist into her stomach, before sending another into the side of her face.

  The punches themselves were sloppy, yet the power behind them knocked the wind out of her.

  Beau was thrown onto the wood of the docks, mind dazed. The excuse she’d been waiting for presented itself to her, in all of its bald, odorous glory. Grinning to herself, Beau slammed her fist onto the wood, jumping up and moving into a familiar stance.

  _Finally._

  She gripped his shirt and pulled him down, sending her knuckles into his temple.

  The giant staggered and idled in place, as Beau stepped forward and sent a flurry of blows his way, knocking him onto his back and beating him into a near-pulp, sending him unconscious.  Each blow split open her knuckles little by little, as the source of much of her frustration took it without a conscious response.

  Blood stained her fists and Beau could’ve sworn that she felt the sting of her punches fade, despite obvious injuries.

  The anger and frustration that was void of her mind for months seemed to rush back into her head, and she only stopped when a hesitant hand placed itself on her shoulder and Beau’s thoughts were filled with Molly’s memory.

  “Beau, I think it’s time for you to go.” Caleb whispered.

  “He started it, Caleb, it was self defense.” she spat, adrenaline still pumping through her veins before she looked into his worried eyes.

  “You’re better now, Beauregard. Don’t let him set you back. You’re done, you have no more sobering up to do.”

  The anger in her vision faded, and her gaze cleared to see the unconscious body of Lorenzo. She looked back into azure eyes.

  “Oh.”

  “Ja, now go, Dairon will help you get ready and you can call whoever you need to. I’ll get him back to his room.”

  Beau nodded and followed Caleb’s request.

  Dairon handed Beau her phone - it felt alien in her hands.

  It felt even more foreign when her finger hovered over the call button for Yasha’s contact.

  Maybe she was better, but she didn’t feel ready for that cup of coffee. Not after this.

  Beau tapped the symbol.

  “Yash?” Beau croaked.

  “Beau?”

  “Could you pick me up?”

  The 20-odd minutes that passed as Beau sat on a bench outside the center felt agonizing. Sure, the pulsating pain on the side of her cheek and stomach hurt, but the uncertainty of Yasha’s reaction plagued her thoughts.

  The bruises and cuts on her knuckles looked identical to the ones she got months ago. The near-identical fear she felt when she knocked on Yasha’s door that night was child’s play in comparison to what she was feeling now.

  The hum of an engine reached Beau’s ears.

  Straightening her posture, Beau kept her eyes on the ground, scared.

  A tight grip enveloped her form, and Beau found herself burying her face into Yasha’s shoulders. Beau grimaced at the pain, letting out a small groan from the pressure on her torso.

  Pulling back, she noticed Yasha’s eyes widen at the sight of her bruised cheek.

  “I fucked up again.” Beau muttered. “I didn’t drink but…”

  The ex-monk held up her split knuckles. Yasha nodded and drove back to her own apartment, leaving Beau alone to gather first aid materials.

  Once bright light that filtered through Yasha’s living room dimmed, the sun sinking below the depths of the horizon.

  Yasha returned and kneeled in front of Beau’s place on her couch.

  “This feels familiar.” Beau joked, wincing when a hot pad brushed her bruise.

  “Yes, it does.”

  “So…you’re not angry. Is that good? Or are you actually angry-”

  “No. I’m not angry. I was just worried. I thought that giving you a lift would end up hurting you in the end.” Yasha mumbled, wiping away blood on Beau’s hands.

  “Oh. Wait, hurt me?”

  Beau placed a hand on Yasha’s wrist and moved it away from herself, looking into her ex’s eyes. Anxiety and fear that disappeared came back into her mind.

  “I was the reason behind your relapse. I didn’t want it to happen again.” Yasha murmured, folding the blood-speckled cloth in her hands, eyes downcast.

  An unexpected chuckle escaped Beau’s split lips.

  “It was a two-day relapse, that was nothing.” Beau lifted Yasha’s chin. “You didn’t cause that, I just blamed you like a child would.”

  “I wasn’t just talking about your drinking.” Yasha continued, dabbing her cloth-covered thumb across Beau’s lip.

  “You mean me getting in fights?”

  The cloth, shifted onto Beau’s cheek, pressed harder.

  “One of these days, your fights might get you killed. Regardless of how physical, I don’t want any fight hurting you.” Yasha pulled the cloth away. “Especially if it was my words that drive you to a place away from _me_ and somewhere your heart stops beating.”

  Yasha’s eyes redirected themselves onto the tattoo Jester gave her.

  Beau glanced at where Yasha’s eyeline ended. The occasional calls Jester gave her in rehab gave hints, but this felt like the final nail in the coffin of Yasha’s nigh-invisible past.

  “ _I’m_ better, it won’t happen again.” Beau rubbed a calloused thumb on Yasha’s tattoo. “And _you’re_ better, you haven’t unfairly blamed shit on me.”

  “I guess so.”

  “Hey. Molly might’ve been a reason I went back to rehab, but you were too. I was never there for you when you were actually here in the past. I’ll wait for whatever you need me to wait for. Though I’m guessing it won’t be for that storm cult.” Beau vowed.

  “Okay. I won’t leave you again. Not like before. I’ll be here for you like I was supposed to be, long before all of this.” Yasha vowed, moving the alcohol and blood saturated cloth from Beau’s wounds.

  “Friends?”

  “You make it sound like we’re children, Beau.” Yasha chuckled. “Of course. We’ll see if anything else in the future.”

  Yasha finished wrapping up Beau, kissing her knuckles with gentle lips. A glow radiated from the contact, and the wounds on Beau’s knuckles sown themselves back into unity. A glance at the knuckles might lead one to believe that Beau never got into a fight at all.

  “I’ll never get used to that. Did those storm people do that to you?” Beau queried, flexing her fingers.

  “I had it long before them.” Yasha said, smiling to herself.

  Yasha put away her kit, and took slow steps back towards her bedroom. She stopped herself at the threshold of her bedroom.

  “Could you lay with me tonight? Having you here but not next to me doesn’t feel right.”

  “Of-Of course.” Beau stuttered, making her way to their old bedroom.

  Though Yasha was used to lending clothes, she never got used to the sight of Beau’s back muscles, nor how impish the monk looked when wearing shirts nearly double her size.

  “Don’t laugh at me, it’s not my fault your muscle makes you wear huge shirts.” Beau retorted half-heartedly.

  “Just come to bed.”

  Yasha could’ve sworn she saw Beau blush, but the darkness in the room and Beau’s complexion would make the reaction hard to prove.

  Slipping in bed, the two pulled close to each other, facing chest to chest. Beau buried her face in Yasha’s shoulder. Sleep came easily for the first time in a while, and no cloud was present through the night.

  Everything felt perfect, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parallels? Parallels.
> 
> Detail Notes: I did purposely try to make Beau's meditation parallel with Ch.4's. In addition, the one year of Lorenzo's "sentencing" to the rehab center was going to be months after Molly's death on purpose. If you're curious as to why Beau was so eager to fight back, it was because she was looking for an excuse to pound Lorenzo's face in, despite her growth as a person. I also did allude to stunning strike and flurry of blows. Yasha's obvious adverseness to picking Beau up after the fact has to do with her idea of protecting Beau. Yash, all in all this chapter was kinda meant to be a parallel to chapters one and four.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> EDIT: Oh shit I didn't realize I hit 65 kudos and 1000+ hits thank you all!


	8. The Slumber That Creeps To Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I updated this late because I completely forgot to post this then I took a short rest (ha, dnd pun). Also, can we talk about episode 55??? I won't spoil it but holy shit that was wild.
> 
> ANYWAY, this chapter's title is from "In A Week" by Hozier (coincidentally the amount of time after Beau was released from the center).
> 
> Ch.7 Summary: Beau meditates at the center, but is interrupted by Lorenzo and strikes him down, forcing her out of the rehabilitation center. Luckily for her, she's rectified her behavior and has Yasha to pick her up. When Yasha does arrive, the two go home and share a candid conversation.

  It almost felt surreal.

  Yasha placed a simple, beautiful ring on her wife’s finger, eyes never breaking their gaze. She felt nothing but a stirring warmth in her chest as Zuala mirrored her, the judge finishing his legally-obligated phrases. Yasha’s wide grin never left her face until her lips met Zuala’s, which concluded their ceremony.

  Yasha’s hands gripped her wife’s back, bathing in her warmth.

  Yet the warmth faded. A cold slick liquid coated her fingers.

  Pulling away, Yasha saw her wife’s paled expression. Both looked down to her stomach, where blood spread through her white dress. A brick of unadulterated fear slammed into Yasha’s head, who took panicked steps back.

  Her wife did the same and fell to the carpeted floor, her blood pooling underneath her body.

  “Zuala?” Yasha pleaded, reaching forward to place pressure on the wound.

  Yasha’s hand felt frozen, despite the distant heat Zuala’s blood provided. Yasha looked back to where the judge stood, only to find a blank space. She redirected her focus onto her wife. Gone.

  Instead, laid the mangled, bruised, cut-up body of Beau, whose eyes stared without life into Yasha’s. Looking down at where her hand was, Yasha found her hand covering a gash in Beau’s side, which did nothing to the bleeding that never stopped.

  Tears blurred her vision. Beau’s usually bright clothing muddled with the color of the carpet.

  “Beau? Please, you can’t do this, not now-“

  Looking into her ex’s face, she found dark eyes instead of teal, and purple hair instead of brown.

  Blinking away her tears, the lifeless eyes of Molly met hers, and Yasha stood before his coffin.

  “ _Molly?_ ”

  Yasha lurched forward from her slumber.

  Light taps of rain against her window alerted her to the weather. The dim light around her suffocated her thinking, and a part of her still felt as if she was holding the dead bodies of those dear to her. Glancing at her right hand, she felt the freezing temperature of the limb, though its tattooed opposite felt fine.

  Sighing, Yasha turned to find an empty bed, still messy. No note, either.

  The woman groaned to herself and left her bedroom. She froze in her hallway, eyes locked on Beau, asleep on a chaise, bottle by her dangling hand.

  Furrowing her brow, she marched into Beau’s space and shoved her awake.

  “Beauregard.” she spat, picking up the half-empty bottle of bourbon from the floor.

  Bleary-eyed, Beau rose from her chair, glaring at the woman.

  “Fuck off. You weren’t even here when I got beat to shit yesterday.” Beau retorted, eyes shifting their focus onto the bottle.

  The ex-monk pulled the bottle from Yasha’s grasp and took a swig, some liquor dribbling from her chin and dousing her shirt. The scent of alcohol wafted to Yasha’s nose.

  “Beau.”

  Hot anger flooded her mind, and Yasha yanked the bottle and threw it onto the floor, eyes never leaving their focus on Beau.

  “What the fuck, Yash?” she barked, rising from her position.

  Taking drunken steps forward, Beau staggered into Yasha’s space. Yasha looked away from her ex and down to the glass-sprinkled floor. Small flickers of pain prickled Yasha’s bare feet, leaving small trails of blood behind. Wincing at the pain, Yasha put a hand up and looked back to a figure much taller than her own.

  “Stormlord?” the name she had sworn off saying fell from her lips like second nature.

  “My child. I taught you better than this.” he sighed, lifting Yasha’s chin. Sparks of electricity danced across his shoulder, trailing his arm, before reaching her face. “I taught you that anger and loss could be utilized. You can still protect her, but you must not stay with her to do so.”

  Yasha pulled away from his hand and kept her eyes trained on his boots.

  “There are other ways of protecting the ones I love. If I had left her alone, she-”

  “Wouldn’t have gone to rehabilitation? You may not have been the one that caused her dependency on alcohol, but you fuel it. Protecting her means that you must stop tempting her. You’ve caused Beauregard’s injuries. You have caused _her_ death. And you did not avenge another’s.” he muttered, stepping closer to Yasha.

  Tears that had been held back rolled down Yasha’s cheeks.

  “It is okay, my child. Stay away from her and another death will not be realized. Stay away and she can properly honor the memory of your friend.” his sourceless voice finished, the rolling of thunder looming closer to Yasha’s home.

  Anger bubbled in her throat.

  “What if I don’t?” she spat, the pain beneath her feat subsiding.

  “Orphanmaker…” he trailed.

  Yasha shot forward in bed. She looked up to see a fire-branded man with tattoos crawling up the side of his bald head.

  “If it isn’t the shit’s other friend. Interesting that I’d only meet you now.” he drawled, eyes peering into her own.

  “Leave us alone.” she growled, her nails digging into her palms.

  “Us? Are you with that drunk bitch?” he slurred, a loud chuckle echoing through the living room Yasha backed herself into.

  “Leave us _alone_.” she repeated.

  “Leave you alone? How about this,” he paused, drawing an object glinting in the moon’s light. “I get back at the people who sent me to that hellhole.”

  Staring down the barrel, Yasha froze in place.

  “Hey, shithead! Maybe you sent yourself to rehab, at least you’re still fuckin’ alive!” a gruff voice taunted, Beau’s hand intertwining with Yasha’s.

  Despite her fear, Yasha turned to her ex. In the teal pupils, she found care, confidence, and unadulterated anger.

  “Beau-”

  “It’s okay Yash, he knows he’ll be sent to jail if he shoots. We’re fine.” Beau murmured, eyes still trained on the trigger.

  “Beauregard.” she spat, glowering at Beau. “Please just run.”

  The ex-monk’s face twisted in confusion.

  “Run? And leave you here? Fuck no-”

  A clap rang through the apartment, and smoke rose from the barrel of Lorenzo’s gun. Yasha’s eyes snapped to Beau’s torso, clutched by a bandage-wrapped hand.

  A few silent moments passed.

  Hurried footsteps left the two alone.

  Yasha set Beau on the ground, placing pressure on her stomach.

  “Maybe I should’ve run.” she choked out, blood dribbling the side of her face.

  Silent tears fell onto Beau’s shirt as Yasha scanned her home for any sign of her phone. Cursing herself, she left Beau’s side and ran into her room, calling an ambulance and rushing back to her ex’s side. Blood pooled beneath her body, staining Yasha’s pajamas.

  “Yash, it’s okay.” Beau stammered, releasing her grip on her wound.

  “Beau what are you-”

  Weakened arms pulled Yasha down into a frail kiss, rife with the taste of iron.

  Pulling away, Yasha could only witness life leaving Beau’s eyes as her breathing stilled and the ringing of Yasha’s phone filled the air.

  Shutting her eyes, Yasha pleaded that this was a joke.

  “Yasha.” Beau’s voice chanted.

  Redirecting her gaze to Beau’s body, it’s lifeless form continued chanting her name, rising in volume with each utterance. Her dimmed eyes were wide open, their attention directed on Yasha.

  Yasha shot up in bed. Breath rushed into Yasha’s lungs, her eyes bursting open to gaze at Beau’s worried expression, holding her face with calloused hands.

  “Yash? Are you okay?” Beau whispered.

  Words couldn’t leave Yasha’s lips.

  She shook her head.

  “It’s okay. Just breathe.” Beau paused. “Come here.”

  A gentle embrace wrapped around Yasha, and as a storm battered itself against her bedroom window, Yasha began breathing normally again, her mind focused on Beau’s steady pattern. Tears soaked her cheeks and Beau’s borrowed shirt.

  Opening her mouth, Yasha almost spoke, but cast the idea aside and curled up closer to Beau.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A peek into Yasha's inner fears and trauma? Yessir.
> 
> Detail Notes: There wasn't really any details I need to mention...so yeah.
> 
> As always, thank you for dropping kudos and commenting. If you don't...you can do it, but you have no obligation to. Thank you for reading!


	9. In Some Sad Way I Already Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm sorry I uploaded this late, I completely forgot.
> 
> Title is from "Like Real People Do" by Hozier.
> 
> Ch.8 Summary: Yasha has nightmares. The first of which includes her marriage to Zuala, which quickly turns into her death. Zuala's body turns into Beau's, and before long Yasha is looking at Molly's casket. She seemingly awakes to Beau drinking in her living room, who turns into the Stormlord and berates Yasha. Finally, Yasha wakes up to Lorenzo, who shoots Beau. Beau dies but begins chanting Yasha's name. The widow wakes up one last time and curls into Beau's embrace, falling back asleep.

  It had been two months since Yasha’s nightmare.

  Yet whenever Beau heard the local forecaster mention a storm overnight, she faked falling asleep next to Yasha. When the woman’s breathing eased into an unconscious rhythm, Beau sat up in bed, eyes watching Yasha’s face, ready to wake her if it twisted uncomfortably.

  It felt maddening since rain seemed to happen nearly every day. If Yasha asked her why her eyes were bloodshot, Beau would just brush her off, and come up with an obviously bullshit excuse. But Yasha never prodded any further than the occasional comment, opting to give Beau her space to be cranky in the morning.

  One night, the rain beat with an untapped ferocity Beau hadn’t noticed before. Thunder rumbled and lighting clapped with a deafening volume, but the ex-monk only felt worry for a wide-eyed Yasha holding herself underneath their covers.

  “Yash, it’s alright, I’ll stay up a bit. Don’t worry, your storm man can’t touch us.” Beau whispered, joining Yasha’s side.

  “There’s this…electricity in the air, Beau. It’s not him I’m worried about.” she spoke, looking at the scar on Beau’s cheek.

  “Lorenzo doesn’t know where we live, Yash.” Beau paused, sighing and pulling Yasha into a side hug. “And whoever else you’re worried about won’t come. I’d be here to kick their ass.”

  Yasha shut her eyes and drew shaky breaths, tightening her grip on their sheets.

  “Are you sure he’s still in the center?”

  “I asked Caleb the other day, he said Lorenzo would have a long time before he’d leave.” Beau said, sending a gentle smile Yasha’s direction.

  “Okay.”

  Sleep didn’t come easy for Yasha that night. But it was an unrelenting onslaught against Beau’s willpower.

  The woman groaned to herself and left her shared bed, sitting on the cool wooden floor next to it, facing the blurred window.

  _This couldn’t be too hard, could it?_

Beau breathed in and out, shutting her eyes and focusing on the tapping of droplets against the glass window. Over time, it fell into a steady, comforting rhythm. Lighting lessened, and the thunder was but a low backdrop to the rain. Beau could see why Yasha used to enjoy it so much.

  Beau recalled the distant memory of Yasha thrashing in the middle of the night, yelling her name, Molly’s, and a stranger’s. She felt a dull ache in her chest, thinking of the tears in Yasha’s eyes from that night, and the night before she went to rehab.

  The ache felt like what was in her heart during the early weeks of their relationship, before Yasha began leaving, and before Molly died. Before everything went to shit.

  Sleeping in the same bed felt more natural than it should have, and waking up to Yasha’s gentle greetings felt like the home she’d wanted for years. Even in her time apart from her ex, her mind was fixated on the exact reality she was living now - where Yasha was no longer leaving in the middle of the night, and Beau was no longer drinking with Molly as a way to deal with her absence.

  The terrified, widened eyes of Yasha was a more than logical reason to ignore all of that warmth, though. Yasha didn’t need to deal with a restoration of the past. Beau knew she needed her as a shoulder to cry on and an ear to vent to, nothing more.

  Sitting in her own stillness, the edge of her hearing heard Yasha’s bedsheets shift with fervor.

  Beau stood up and rushed to Yasha’s side of the bed, moving to wake her before stopping still and recalling sagely advice Caleb told her. The woman sat beside Yasha, stroking her head and hoping that she would wake up soon.

  “Beau!”

  Yasha shot up from her sleep, sweat covering her skin and tears streaming down her face. She turned to see a tired, but attentive Beau, who was resting her hands on her shoulders.

  “It’s okay, just breathe.” Beau whispered, smiling and wiping tears and sweat from Yasha’s cheeks.

  Yasha shook from her tears, leaning into Beau’s shoulder and sobbing, gripping her clothes as if her life depended on it. Beau stiffened initially, but relaxed, reciprocating Yasha’s hug, quietly guiding her breathing.

  “Just follow my breath. You’ll be okay.”

  Time passed without notice. Yasha’s once rattled form settled itself and Beau’s shoulder was no longer getting damper by the minute. All Yasha did was hold Beau close, her grip on lent pajama’s unrelenting.

  Yasha pulled back, holding Beau’s face in her hands.

  “My nightmares.” Yasha paused, checking for Beau’s attention. “I see the people I’ve cared about, _loved_ , die in them. _You_ , Molly…my wife, too…her name was Zuala. Anyway, Kord tells me to leave you, sometimes to protect you, and sometimes because _she_ would want me too.”

  Beau stared blankly at Yasha’s ring finger, which boasted a simple tattoo.

  “I don’t want you to get hurt. Sometimes Lorenzo is there too, and he,” Yasha rubbed her thumb against Beau’s bare abdomen. “kills you. He kills you right here, and I can’t stop it.”

  Beau shifted her hands onto Yasha’s, before lifting up mismatching pupils to meet her own.

  “It’s okay, Yash. Whatever happened then can’t hurt you-”

  “Lorenzo still can, and I know he knows I ca-”

  “He can _try_. Look,” Beau smiled and brushed Yasha’s hair away from her face. “I’m here. I’ll always be here. And if you want to protect me, stay here with me. I can tell you don't want to say it but we can stay friends, it’s alright. But I think Zuala would be okay with whatever you _want_.”

  Yasha nodded in silence.

  Yasha guided Beau’s forehead to her own, her hand hesitant to put any more pressure as if Beau would break from her touch. Their proximity made Yasha feel like she did when she married Zuala. A part of her still hoped that this was her wife in another life, but feeling Beau’s calloused hand on her neck, she knew that this was someone else. Maybe Zuala would want her to move on.

  Lighting flashed and thunder followed, the two flinching in their places but never moving away from each other.

  Yasha’s breathing quickened when the corner of her eye caught a flash of lightning once more, her hands moving to the back of Beau’s neck, holding her close.

  “I _want_ you.” she whispered.

  Yasha tilted her head, moving her forehead way from Beau’s. She moved her lips towards a hesitant pair, her hands pulling the ex-monk from close to mere centimeters apart. Yasha placed her lips on Beau’s, and silent air left both of their lungs, as the two moved closer until there was no room left.

  Yasha pulled away to catch her breath, eyes never leaving their focus on teal pupils. Beau seemed breathless herself, and Yasha pulled her back into another gentle kiss, lightning flashing through her window and thunder rumbling as Beau gripped her hips.

  The two stopped, foreheads still touching.

  “Let’s get some rest, Yash. We can talk about this in the morning.”

  Beau settled next to Yasha, taking in a gulp of air.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I've yet to write the final chapter. Also, how are y'all feeling after episode 56...'cause that was wild.
> 
> Detail notes: I googled a little bit and apparently you're not supposed to wake someone up if in a nightmare caused by PTSD.
> 
> Leave Kudos, comments, and feedback if you'd like. Thank you for reading!


	10. Just As It Was

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I didn't post this yesterday. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday was wild. I didn't sleep until 7am.
> 
> Anyway, chapter title is from "As It Was" by Hozier.
> 
> EDIT: I'm out here forgetting to put the chapter summary for the previous chapter. I'm the worst fanfic author, I'm sorry guys.
> 
> Ch. 9 Summary: Beau stays up to let Yasha sleep on a particularly stormy night. During her time awake, she ponders her feelings, perhaps admitting that there was something she was feeling towards Yasha that had more gravity in the past. Though, she notices Yasha in the middle of a nightmare, and as per sagely advice, does not wake her up, rather waiting to let Yasha wake up on her own. Yasha wakes up disheveled, and Beau patiently calms her down, as Yasha divulges the content of her dreams. The two share their thoughts of each other, a kiss, and an "I love you."

  The morning sun poured itself through Yasha’s windows, nudging her awake. Her tired mind worked to recall the night before, and when her memories cleared, she nearly froze. Yasha’s eyes darted to the neatly made side of her bed.

  No note. A part of her was scared of one, but she knew that it’s been too long for one.

  Rubbing the remnants of sleep out of her eyes, Yasha made her way towards her kitchen, where a slumped over Beau rested on a counter where a kettle was whistling. Yasha placed her hand on Beau’s dangling leg, shaking her awake.

  “What are you boiling water for?” Yasha asked, brushing Beau’s untied hair from her face.

  “Deuces and Nott dropped by earlier. Nott insisted on me taking her pack of beer, but I took Caduceus’ tea instead.” Beau chuckled, pointing at tea bags resting in a small basket.

  “Oh. Well, I’ve never really tried tea before.”

  “Sorry, what?” Beau blurted, hopping off the countertop and grabbing Yasha’s shoulders.

  “When I was back in Xhorhas, tea wasn’t really…popular.” she said, eyeing the kettle.

  “Well, this is a perfect opportunity to try.” Beau paused and poured the boiling water into Yasha’s mugs. “I’m not a tea person myself, but Cad’s tea is always good.”

  Yasha watched as Beau gently dipped the hermit’s tea bags into the water. Inky tea blackened the drink with its tendrils, as steam rolled off its surface and wafted towards Yasha.

  Lifting the cup, Yasha mirrored Beau’s actions, being careful not to scald her lips or tongue. It was warm and sweet. It was warm in a good way, and it felt like home. Glancing up at Beau, Yasha saw her consistently wince back at the heat while she made her way to their dinner table, grabbing a plate of pancakes, bacon, and an omelet.

  Yasha sat across Beau’s seat, the owner of which grabbed another plate of the same food.

  “You cook?”

  “Well, my parents kinda forced me too, being the rich assholes they were.” Beau admitted.

  At the sight of Yasha shoveling her food into her mouth, Beau felt her cheeks warm.

  “Are you okay?”

  Beau nearly choked on her bacon.

  “Yeah, yeah. I just thought you would throw up from it.” Beau mumbled, taking a sip of her tea.

  “You’re good at cooking, Beau. I would love to wake up to your cooking every morning.” Yasha said, smiling at the ex-monk.

  Beau nearly choked on her tea.

  “Oh. Well, hopefully, I can…do that.”

  The rest of their meal was finished in silence, and Beau set up another kettle of boiling water per Yasha’s request. When their second batch of tea was concocted, the two settled on the couch, watching a Netflix show Beau couldn’t really pay attention to.

  “Hey, Yash.”

  “Hm?” she murmured, pausing the show.

  “Do you wanna talk about last night?”

  “The kiss was nice, yes-”

  “As much as I want to talk about the kiss, I think we need to talk about your nightmares.” Beau stated, gripping the handle of her mug.

  “I already told you about what happened and about Zuala. What’s more to tell?” Yasha snapped, flinching back when she saw the hurt look in Beau’s eyes.

  Yasha focused her stare on the ground beneath her feet, not able to bring herself to look back into Beau’s eyes.

  “I know. But you’ve helped me, and I think I should help you. Maybe you could go to therapy, and talk your past out. I know Dairon helped me-”

  “I can’t leave you.”

  “Yash, you’re not gonna go to a rehab center. You’ll only really need to go once a week. I can even ask Dairon to recommend some people.” Beau nudged Yasha’s chin up, locking eyes with heterochromatic pupils. “Hey, you’re not gonna leave me. You’re gonna be okay.”

  “I’m…scared.” Yasha choked out, her body freezing in place.

  “It’s alright. We’ll figure this out together, Yash. I’ll even take you out on a coffee date after your fifth session.” Beau offered, placing a hesitant kiss on Yasha’s temple.

  “Okay. I’ll go.”

  At the affirmation, Beau’s lips widened into a wide grin, as she pulled Yasha into a side hug. The giant woman rolled her eyes and kissed Beau on the cheek.

  “What’s with the big smile, Beau?”

  “I’m just happy for you. And you’re starting to open up more.”

  Yasha smiled herself at the explanation and leaned on Beau’s shoulder.

  Before relaxing on Beau’s shoulder, a knock came from the door. It began lightly, but progressed into a harsher knock, though it lacked the sound of much, if any, more haste.

  Yasha stopped Beau from standing and peered through her peephole. Narrowing her eyes, she opened the door.

  A bald woman with dark skin dressed in a blue pantsuit stood before her, holding a clipboard.

  This felt adjacent to Kord’s lackeys. _Did they change their clothes?_

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Dairon. Is Beaure-Beau home?” she inquired, shifting her hold on the clipboard.

  Yasha shifted in front of the doorway, blocking Dairon’s sight to the couch.

  “Why?”

  “I simply need to update my records on her. Checking in to see if she’s keeping up her progress made at the center.” she deadpanned, narrowing her eyes at a woman three solid inches taller than her.

  Sighing to herself, Dairon relaxed her clipboard, hanging it by her side, noting the lack of any shift in the woman’s stand-offish demeanor.

  “Might I inquire who you are?”

  “Yasha.”

  “I see.”

  A gentle hand slipped into Yasha’s clenched fist.

  “Yash? Oh, hey Dai-wait, you’re with the Cobalt Soul?” Beau interjected, wary of the tense air.

  Dairon eyed the steaming cups of tea on Yasha’s coffee table and took note of the smell of tea on their breaths. Nodding to Beau, she scribbled a note and stepped away from the threshold of Yasha’s apartment.

  “My apologies for interrupting your time. I no longer need to check in. Have a good day.”

  Dairon turned and walked to her car, where Tubo and Zeenoth awaited.

  “We don’t need to drag her back into the Reserve.” Dairon stated, starting her car.

  “What? Her father’s going to skin us alive, Dairon.” Zeenoth piped up, staring at Dairon’s clipboard.

  “Does he know of her involvement of our,” the monk paused to chuckle. “less public practices?” Dairon retorted.

  “Well, no-“

  “Then it’s settled.”

  Back in her apartment, Yasha eyed the leaving car before shutting her door, turning to face Beau.

  “Look, Yash, I had no idea she was with them-”

  “Your therapist is with the Cobalt Soul?” Yasha paused, anxiety and a lack of control welling in her stomach. “How are you going to find one that’s not connected to them, much less _Kord?_ ” Yasha spat, sitting on her couch.

  Beau placed Yasha’s unfinished cup of tea in the giant’s hand, picking up her own before sitting herself next to Yasha.

  “I’ll find one, I promise. I’ll ask Jes and Cad and it’ll be okay, Yash.” Beau spoke, resting Yasha’s head on her shoulder.

  “I hope so.” Yasha murmured, interlocking her hand with Beau’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really haven't finished the final chapter and I might just make it an epilogue. I'm gonna take a two-week break so I can post the next chapter and the final chapter (epilogue?) so there's that. Also, my next fic after this is a Lavorregard one so be on the look out for that.
> 
> If you'd like, leave kudos, comments, and critiques! Thank you for reading this!
> 
> EDIT: So I forced myself into writing the final chapter so no two-week break!


	11. We'll Live Eternally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys...sorry I was super late in updating this today. BUT, at least I didn't have to upload it a couple of days afterward 'cause I had a relatively peaceful weekend! 
> 
> Anyway, the chapter title is from "Better Love" by Hozier.
> 
> Ch.10 Summary: Over a cup of tea, Beau and Yasha have a conversation about the latter's nightmares, with Beau offering to help Yasha find a therapist to work over her trauma. After silence settles, Dairon arrives at the door and Beau notices her clothes, immediately taken aback. With Yasha's stern protectiveness, Dairon takes note of Beau's situation as it is and leaves the two alone, with Yasha shaken. Beau reassures Yasha that she'll find someone separate from Yasha's past for therapy.

  It took months for Yasha to get comfortable enough and stomach her first trip to a therapist, every previous attempt thwarted by the possible image of Kord or his underlings sitting in a chair across from her, taking notes and abusing a vulnerable mind.

  Yet, with a clamped jaw and sweaty palms, Yasha had a session with one of the Sol quadruplets, Pumat, and had every thought trapped in her mind come out little by little.

  In no time was she face to face with her fifth session, and coincidentally, the eve of Molly’s death.

  Both Pumat and Beau were more patient than usual with her that day, never pushing whenever she took pause.

  “Respectfully, I think you’ve done great, Ms. Yasha. I can’t wait to speak to you next week.” he closed, standing up and shaking the delicate, but calloused hand of his client.

  “Thank you. I will be looking forward to next week, too.”

  Yasha stepped out of his room, and followed now-familiar hallways to the exit of the _Settled Vagrant,_ a smile pulling at her lips when she found herself meeting the gaze of a roused-from-daydream Beau, dressed in a suit and leaning against their shared car.

  “Is there an occasion I am not aware of, Beau?”

  “Figured I’d treat you. I had a feeling Molly wouldn’t want us drinking tonight.” Beau pressed a small kiss against Yasha’s lips. “I also had a feeling that we could give coffee a raincheck.”

  Yasha narrowed her eyes but shrugged and let Beau drive the two home in silence.

  Yasha let out a small gasp when her eyes spotted a suit and dress laid on her couch, both of which were a dazzling dark purple.

  “I felt we needed to match the occasion.”

  “How much money did you spend on this?”

  Beau shrugged, shoving forgotten receipts in her pocket.

   “My parents won’t miss the money.”

  The joking glower sent Beau’s way prodded for more explanation.

  “Okay…I’ve been saving up at my new job.” Beau rolled her eyes at Yasha’s bemused look. “Just go get dressed.”

  Yasha chuckled and kissed Beau’s forehead, before taking the purple suit and changing.

  Idly tapping on her phone, the ex-monk’s jaw dropped when Yasha’s finger lifted her chin to gaze at her new outfit. Patterned highlights hinted at a glimmer under the living room’s lights, and Beau was left to feel nothing but gobsmacked.

  “How did I get so lucky?” Beau muttered, taking Yasha’s hand in hers and leading them towards their limousine that Jester had rented.

  “I don’t believe in luck, Beau. All you…and I did was grow.”

  Beau stopped in her tracks, before bolting back to their apartment and returning to Yasha with a flower in her hand.

  “I know you love flowers. And I, uh, know this was her favorite, but I think it’d look good on you too.”

  The woman tucked a small petunia on Yasha’s ear, earning flushed cheeks from her recipient.

  “Thank you, Beau.”

  Driving to _The Trove_ passed in what felt like seconds, with nervous, but excited energy growing in the women’s bellies.

  Beau held doors open for Yasha and even pulled out chairs for her, fighting the ever-widening smile on her face.

  Sitting down, Yasha eyed her date, “You look like you’re on drugs, Beau.”

  “Huh? Sorry, I just can’t believe we’re together again. Much less that we’re better than before.”

  Yasha began scanning her menu, the edge of her vision catching an obvious stare.

  “Beau, I really wonder how you were a monk if you were this blatant.”

  Wine nearly splattered against the fine cloth that covered their table.

  “Jesus, Yash. You don’t have to call me out like-”

  “Good evening, ladies, my name is Marius, and I’ll be your waiter for tonight. Do you have your orders ready?”

  A blonde man in a finely-fitted tuxedo stood before them, his undercut hair slicked back, and his lips pulled into a smile, though his eyes were scrutinizing the air of apprehensive looks shared between the women.

  Yasha and Beau gave their orders, and the two fell back into nervous silence. Beau seemed to pick up on Yasha’s lack of eye contact, and placed a hand on hers, thumb rubbing Yasha’s tattoo.

  “It’s alright to still be uncomfortable.” Beau whispered.

  “I…know. I just don’t like days centered around me, is all.” Yasha glanced at the purple vest Beau wore. “Especially when it belongs to others.”

  Beau nodded and tightened her grip on Yasha’s hand.

  “That’s true, but you’ve grown. You deserve this. I know they would say the same.” 

  “Thank you. Anyway, I am glad that you haven’t touched alcohol until tonight. Know that I’m celebrating you too.”

  Gazes locked onto each other before plates were set in front of the couple.

  Gazes broke off.

  “If I may speak, you two can ignore me. I’m just your waiter.” Marius paused, then smiled. “And Fjord sends his regards.”

  The rest of the evening melted their initial apprehensive glances away, and both Beau and Yasha fell into a comfortable rapport. Topics veered from the past and towards the future, with Yasha joking of a possible ring.

  Beau found herself choking on her wine more often than not, still dumbfounded by the woman she once hated in front of her.

  Yasha felt her walls of fear dissipate, entranced by the woman she once separated herself from.

  At the end of their dinner, their eyes were glazed over by a feeling more intoxicating than booze.

  Some could call it love.

  Molly definitely would.

  Standing from her seat, Beau stopped Yasha from joining her.

  “I’m just gonna get the limo. It’s cold out.”

  “I have a suit, Beau. I _can't_ get cold.”

  Beau rolled her eyes and held her hand out.

  The two stepped out into the night air, chilly wind nipping their nose and cheeks, bringing about a blush on Yasha’s face.

  Leaning against a lamp in the parking lot, Beau could barely keep her eyes off Yasha’s face.

  Rough footsteps arose from behind Yasha.

  “Christ, it’s the fa-”

  Yasha turned and stepped between Beau and Lorenzo.

  Beau peered from behind Yasha’s shoulder and scowled at the sight, catching a glimpse of a red-haired woman that handed him a dark silhouette. From her fingertips to the midway point of her bicep, was a silk glove that barely shimmered from beneath the parking lot lamp.

  Unable to get a good look at her face, Beau swore to herself as the woman walked away.

  “Why are you here, bitch? Shouldn’t you be at his fuckin’...rock, _crying?_ ” Lorenzo slurred, dropping a bottle of beer from his hand.

  “Leave us alone.” Yasha growled, pressing her thumb into her tattoo with one hand, and gripping Beau’s wrist with the other.

  “Pff.”

  Lorenzo lifted a gun from behind his other hand, glancing back at the now-gone figure of the red-haired woman.

  Yasha’s eyes narrowed, letting go of Beau’s hand and taking unnoticeable steps forward.

  Lorenzo stumbled forward, keeping his aim focused on Beau.

  “Yash. Just run.” Beau whispered.

   Yasha furrowed her brows shuffled closer, eyes trained on the trigger.

  “I got one bitch in the dirt and I can finally get a couple more in it tonight. Just stay still, at least you won’t have to deal with prison.” Lorenzo spat, lifting his aim.

  Yasha dashed for Lorenzo’s gun.

  “ _Yash-_ ”

  The clap of a gunshot rang throughout the parking lot, with the growl of thunder following suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened.
> 
> Detail Notes: I did purposefully leave ambiguous events during the timespan of Yasha's therapy, like Beau's job, mainly because the detail wasn't necessary to the story. Also, Yasha did hesitate in saying both *herself* and Beau grew from their past. The Trove is an allusion to the Pillow Trove in Zadash. Will I ever reveal who that red-haired woman was? Not as long as she may be a plot point, but I tried to make her obvious. Also, yeah I purposefully censor Lorenzo, for the sake of readers. Though if for a reason I don't censor him, I'll make sure to mention usage of the word.
> 
> Leave kudos, comments, and critiques, but you are absolutely not obligated to! Thank you for reading this!


	12. That's Just Wasteland, Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Honestly, this was a bit short and I hope that it felt conclusive for you guys.
> 
> Chapter title is from "Wasteland, Baby!" by Hozier.
> 
> Ch. 11 Summary: After picking up Yasha from a therapy session, the two decide to go on a date to celebrate Yasha's fifth session, but to also commemorate Molly. After eating, the two stood in the restaurant's parking lot and ran into Lorenzo, who fired a shot.

  Yasha’s heartbeat was an endless staccato, its pace dominating over the sound of the analog clock in her peripheral.

  In her stream of thoughts, the image of Beau appeared, with breaths that were steady and slow.

  Grounding.

  Yasha inhaled and exhaled, gripping the cloth of her jeans.

  The sound of a gunshot rang repeatedly, the distant sound of Zuala’s body dropping following suit in Yasha’s mind, her own strained cries echoing too.

  Yasha inhaled and exhaled, her grip tightening.

  Molly’s casket stood before her. The snow-dappled distance didn’t distract her from the pit dug out for him, nor his lifeless position.

  Yasha inhaled and exhaled, her breaths becoming shallow.

  The image of blood splattered against the concrete filled her mind, followed by burning anger bubbling in her throat.

  “Yasha? We need your account of what happened so we can put this under self-defense and be done.” the officer spoke, brushing their golden locks out of their face to look into Yasha’s eyes.

  Yasha blinked.

  “I’m sorry, Bryce, you know this is hard for me.” she whispered, leaning closer to the officer.

  “You’re alright. Just take steady breaths, take your time, and tell me what happened when you’re ready.”

  _Yasha sprinted and took a hold of Lorenzo’s gun, moving to rip it out of his grasp. A gunshot filled the air, with thunder’s ringing following not a moment after._

_“Yash?”_

_The weakness in Beau’s voice drew attentive eyes to its source. A speck of blood grew from between the purple lapels of Beau’s suit, mismatched irises snapping to meet teal ones._

_Hot tears pooled as Yasha’s world slowed to a halt, the panicked eyes of someone she loved all too familiar._

_A blunt force hit Yasha’s chin, driving her and her grasp from Lorenzo’s gun and onto the ground._

_Once there, Lorenzo grinned and dropped his weapon, taking confident steps towards Yasha’s form. The bald man chuckled and pinned the woman down, wrapping his hands around her throat and staring into Yasha’s eyes lowering his face to just above hers._

_Despite Yasha’s fast-slipping consciousness, she could hear the cracks of lighting and drumming of thunder keeping her awake._

_Yasha placed her hands on Lorenzo’s wrists, attempting to pry them off her throat, with no avail. Grunting in annoyance her hands began searching for a gun she had her hands on not but seconds before._

_Warm tears of anger streamed down her face, as cold drops of rain fell onto her face from Lorenzo’s head. Furrowing her brows, her fingers glanced cold metal, and without a second thought, Yasha gripped the wet handle, pressed it against Lorenzo’s torso, and pulled the trigger twice. Warm drops of blood from Lorenzo began staining her own suit, yet his grip was still a vice on her neck._

_A dull thud shoved Lorenzo from his place above Yasha, his silhouette replaced by Beau’s, slumped over and nursing her side._

_“I’m proud of you, and I-”_

_As Yasha’s eyes refocused on Beau’s, the latter slumped over and fell to the ground._

_Yasha shot up from her position and cradled Beau’s body before it could it the wet concrete, Yasha’s eyes darting between Beau’s face and her wound._

_“Please don’t do this, don’t do this to me again.” Yasha pleaded, burying her face into Beau’s cool neck, as her hand absent-mindedly dialed the police, a silent kiss trying to give any semblance of warmth back, as she would once do to Beau’s knuckles._

Yasha finished her whispered retelling of death.

  “Thank you, ma’am. You’re free to go for now, and I’ll make sure to contact you if we need to speak further.” Bryce spoke, opening the door for Yasha.

  She only nodded, exiting the room.

  In her tired position, Yasha didn’t notice the blue-clad woman try to stand up, only to wince and sit back down.

  “I’m not one to deal with the living, but you need your wounds to heal.” Caduceus spoke, before greeting Yasha.

  Raising a brow, Yasha followed Caduceus’ line of sight, to see Beau standing up once more, her eyes trained on Yasha’s.

  “Beau-”

  A warm pair of lips found themselves on Yasha’s, as one hand wrapped itself around Yasha’s waist.

  “Beau? I thought you needed to stay for another week at the hospital.” Yasha said, silently thanking her god for allowing Beau to be okay.

  “Don’t worry, it was just a graze.” Yasha glared at the spot she swore she saw bleeding from, prompting Beau. “Okay, it was a graze and a proper shot, but it wasn’t deep.”

  Yasha rolled her eyes and pulled Beau in for a gentle embrace, pressing a kiss onto her head. The ex-monk pulled back and gestured to a table next to her waiting seat.

  “I uh, brought coffee.” Beau handed one to Yasha. “I figured after all of that we should really have our coffee date.”

  Yasha smiled and took Beau’s hand.

  “I have a place we should go to drink this coffee.” Yasha turned to her undertaker friend. “Thank you Caduceus.”

  The man nodded and smiled.

  “No problem.” he glanced down at the coffee in their hands. “Oh, you two are going on a date? That’s nice. Have a good night, you two.”

  When the two entered their home Yasha could tell Beau was confused. She only shrugged and walked past her couch and to her quaint patio, opening it up to show Beau the flowers she had gardened while the ex-monk was away.

  “Holy shit, Yash. It’s beautiful.”

  A smile grew on Yasha’s face as she lead Beau to the seats she prepared, facing towards the edge of the patio, and towards the moon.

  The women sat and drank their coffee in silence, settled and comfortable, as Beau moved her chair closer to Yasha in order to lean against her shoulder.

  “I actually wanted to sing something for you, Beau.” Yasha whispered before beginning to hum a song about Eden and sacrifice.

  “Catchy, but maybe something less grim?” Beau spoke, finishing the last of her coffee.

  Yasha chuckled and sang once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohh man this has been a wild ride! Thank you guys who said I should've made what was once a one-shot into this fun project, and thank you guys for positive comments!
> 
> On this final chapter's note, I'd like to say that I'm gonna take a month break to make a backlog for my next fanfic! All you need to know is that it's 1) Lavorregard/Sappheau/Beaujester, 2) It's canon divergent and 3) It's gonna be multi-chapter!
> 
> Thank you all again for commenting, giving kudos (sadly no critiques), and I hope to see y'all on my next fic!
> 
> P.S: I might be doing random one-shots in the meantime. Also, I'm so happy Ashley's back!!
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: HOLY SHIT Y'ALL THERE'S 2,000 HITS ON THIS FIC? wha-


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